The Shield of Protection
by AspiringWriterGirl
Summary: Peter Petrelli disappeared many times, and what if one of those times, he indulged in a normal life with an old school friend of Nathan's, Hannah Lewis. The only issue is the sixteen year old girl who turns up in the present time, claiming that he's her father... She's special, and she's in danger.
Disclaimer – I don't own anything except my OCs Hannah and Abigail

A/N – I was re-watching the series and couldn't help but want to write a Heroes related story. Here goes!

 **Chapter 01 – Abigail – Brooklyn**

 _Run. Just keep running. If you go far enough, you'll be safe._

I was running, running for my life. There was no time to lose. I had to get away. I couldn't let any more people get hurt because of me.

None of this would have happened if my mom hadn't died. If she hadn't been murdered. I can still remember the crime scene, at my old home in Philadelphia, before I was put into care in Brooklyn.

I had come home from school that afternoon, I can still see it happening so vividly in my mind. My key in the lock, the door opened before I could turn it. I called out to say I was home, but there wasn't an answer.

Well, there was a scream from the kitchen. Without even closing the front door, I started to panic. I remember my school bag hit the floor with a thump as I stumbled through the hallway. As I reached the kitchen, someone threw themselves through the glass window of the back door. Part of me wanted to follow them, but as soon as I saw Mom, I froze.

A gut wrenching scream filled the air as my mouth hung open. I instantly dropped down to my knees beside her still body. Blood leaked from a gouge across her forehead. Like something had wanted her brain. It was as if she had completely bled out. With my hands on her prominent collar bones, I shook her body, deep down I wished that she would survive. My hands began to tremble as I called nine-one-one and my voice quivered as I spoke to the operator. By the time they came, it was too late, Mom was gone and I had felt so helpless. That was the first time I felt helplessness to that extent.

It was the time after she died that I found the most difficult. I was put into the care system, because I was my mom's only living relative. My mother's attorney made heavy progress trying to find the right will. The thing was, and this is merely what he told me, but he claimed that in the past few years, my mom made so many changes to her will that he had about five copies dotted about his office. He was making it incredibly hard to let Mom rest in peace.

When I finally got the most recent copy of her will, it came accompanied with a letter addressed to me. I read about my dad. I had only dreamed about what the first time I would meet him would be like. All Mom had ever told me about him was that, by the time she found out she was pregnant with me, he was gone, literally without a trace. No one remembered seeing him, no one really knew what to tell her. My parents had an old apartment in Manhattan, but Mom lost it because she couldn't pay the rent by herself. That's where I was going. Manhattan. If there was one place he might still be, it was there.

I was ready about to find my dad. This could be the day, maybe not today, but the year that I find him. That I find my family. His name was rushing about in my mind, it was all I could think about.

It would have been easier to leave if I hadn't tried to shut everyone out and try to make them go away. That's who I am, I push people away. It's like a superhero ability I have, physically pushing people away with my mind. One day, when I couldn't take the stress anymore, my mind pushed my teacher away and she ended up with a serious injury leaving her hospitalized. All because of me. I didn't mean to, but no one believed me when I said it was an accident.

So I did the only thing I thought I could do. I ran away. Before people started to ask questions – about how it was possible.

I ran down the derelict, quieter streets of Brooklyn. The sound of the police sirens were getting louder and louder. My feet pounded the sidewalk, aching from all the running. I turned left, into an alleyway when I heard the sirens approaching. Vaulting up into a dumpster, I fell silent and waited, crouched down and holding my breath until the sirens got quieter. When it was no more than a whisper in the distance, I clambered out. For a moment, I leaned against the cold steely dumpster and panted. I tried to catch my breath, and ended up with the rancid smell of the dumpster. It forced me to tumble out of it, slamming the wet concrete outside of the dumpster

I hitched a ride on the bus into Manhattan with one hand locked onto one strap of my backpack. Maybe it was just me, but I couldn't help but feel as though the people on the buses were watching me with eagle eyes.

As soon as I saw a park I recognized, I got off. It was Union Square and I knew it from a crime show Mom used to watch every Thursday evening – we would watch it with our dinner in front of us.

People knocked into me as if I wasn't even there, the streets were so busy in comparison to Brooklyn and Queens. Two girls carrying a dozen shopping bags between them from all the top fashion designers came out of nowhere, running at me. The impact made me hit the pavement and my backpack was almost torn from my hands.

"No!" I yelled, reaching for it as it was sent flying into the streets. I crawled out after it, grabbing the strap. The horn of a bus blared in my ears and someone grabbed my hoodie, pulling me out of harm's way and choking me in the process.

"You better be careful next kid time, or you won't be so lucky," the guy said before he turned away, walking on down the busy street, disappearing into the crowd. I was lucky that he pulled me back. Otherwise even more lives would have been at risk from me stopping the bus from causing me harm.

 _Now what?_ I thought, looking up at the huge skyscrapers that towered overhead, making me feel tiny in comparison. Across the street, the tall apartment buildings towered over with dark and gloomy windows which reflected the sunlight straight into my eyes. Some of the buildings had iron frames which looked crusty as if it had started to peel away in flakes of black coating.

There must be some way to find someone who knew the name of my father, but I wasn't going to ask on the streets like a beggar.

I wandered around the streets of Manhattan, hoping to find something that I would recognize from my Mom's will. About Dad, but nothing, I couldn't remember anything that would be of help to me in order to find my dad.

I decided to go to the hospital, maybe there were records of the name. I might be able to sneak a look at them if push came to shove. When I asked the nurse about the surname, she asked who I was.

"I'm Abigail, a relative," I stuttered, trying to find my words.

The nurse frowned at me as if she didn't believe me. Which is understandable really. She then picked up a phone and held it to her ear. I watched her turn away, I couldn't hear what she was saying but she soon put the phone down.

"I've been told that no one has any recollection of you, you don't seem to be a family member. I suggest you take a seat." Her eyes darted about like she was hiding something. The nurse was probably preparing to call security.

"Please, you have to let me see her. She knows where my father is, she knows who my father is, she must. She's my grandmother, I swear it."

I pleaded with the nurse, she looked up and down the corridor.

"Come on then, let's go see if she can tell you the answers that you seek. I used to be like you once kid."

I couldn't tell if the nurse was patronizing me or just being plain blunt with me. I waited for her to lead the way, I stuck close by her and followed her to the door of the room they were keeping my grandmother in. I paused by the door and the nurse gave me a gentle little nudge.

"Go on, you've got ten minutes. I hope you find what you were looking for." The nurse walked away and I stood, staring at the door.

 _Come on Abigail, you can do this._ I urged myself closer, reaching for the handle.

As I opened the door, I felt my heart racing and I saw my grandmother lying in the bed was sleeping. When I closed the door, even though I tried to do it quietly, she sat up straight.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Mrs Petrelli, my name is Abigail, Abigail Lewis. I- I- My mom died recently-" I started to explained, but Angela Petrelli wasn't buying it. She interrupted me within seconds. It was understandable, I don't know if I would believe someone if they said we were related.

"That's a shame child, but that is of no concern to me whatsoever. Shut the door on your way out. You're lucky I don't call the authorities on you."

"But it is your concern. I'm your granddaughter Mrs Petrelli!" I blurted it out. My hand cupped my mouth, regretting this outburst because I wasn't expecting to be so quick.

What I didn't understand was that she just rolled her eyes. She made me feel like it wasn't the first time that she had been told that she had an illegitimate grandchild.

"Another illegitimate child of Nathan's, I presume?" My Grandma raised her eyebrows, urging me to answer. My hand dropped to my side.

"No, not unless he changed his name from Peter," I replied, trying not to cry and holding back the lump in my throat. I had hoped she would have been a little more positive. "Peter Petrelli is my father, you must know him. You have just got to know him, you're my only chance at finding him."

"I'm sorry dear, but your father is dead. Besides, he's far too young to have a daughter your age. You must be mistaken," she replied bluntly, as if it didn't mean anything to her.

My mouth quivered, opening and closing a little, "What? How?" I wanted to know, I wanted to know everything about him. He was the last bit of family that I had.

"He died, no more or less to it."

"No, that can't be."

Anger was building up inside of me. This couldn't be happening. Peter Petrelli can't have died. I wanted to push everything away again. A purple sphere expanded from my hand, about an inch from it. Mrs Petrelli sat up straight in disbelief.

"What was that?"

"I can't explain it. I don't know about anything, Grandma. I can't figure it out." I clenched my fists as if it would make everything go away. "It happened when I found out that my mother was dead. I pushed people away and this started happening. Why has this started to happen?"

"I suppose that there is a chance, bearing in mind what he is capable of," she rasped in disbelief.

"What's convinced you? Can my dad do this?" I felt a little light going on inside. Hope. I gasped as I felt a pain in my head. "Ow." My hands grabbed my head. "Make it stop, I want this to stop!" I yelled, a purple orb flashed through my hands and around my body. With my eyes screwed shut, the pain ceased and it went silent, apart from the sound of the hospital equipment. "Mrs Petrelli? What's wrong with me?"

"You're a special Abigail, you have a gift."

"You call this a gift, Mrs Petrelli?" I didn't understand. This made me different; this power has caused me to hurt people. "All this has done is hurt people," I whimpered.

"Come closer, let me have a look at you."

I stepped towards her, taking a final glance through the window of her room onto the hospital corridor where I saw a man wearing a dark navy suit open the door.

"Mother…" The man faked a cheerful smile, stepping into the room. When he saw I was standing there, he blocked the door. "Who is this?" he said, pointing at me. "I thought I told the nurse that she wasn't allowed in here."

"Nathan, there's something you should know about her. This is Abigail Lewis. I believe she has a gift, like you and your brother. She believes that she is somehow your brother's daughter. It doesn't surprise me, especially with a time travelling power going round. If I am correct, that would make her your niece."

My eyes grew wide as Nathan turned to stare at me. His hand darted out and grabbed my arm. That's when I let go of my fears and released my gift, the purple orb enclosed around me, pushing Nathan away. He staggered back into the table by the door, sending a few bottles and boxes off the table. Nathan shook his head, dazed.

"You pack quite the punch kid."

"That's just my power – if that's the word for it," I replied, going to his side, checking he was okay. "It's like I can shield things with my mind. I can protect or push people away." I went to help him up, but stopped, not sure what to do. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Who are you? You're too old to be my brother's kid." He had started to contemplate what was going on.

I didn't answer at first, it broke my heart knowing that Peter Petrelli was dead. I didn't even get the chance to know him. He was supposedly my father, and I was so close to finding him, even if it would have normally been so unlikely. However much I would have liked to have gotten to know Peter, it seemed I couldn't.

I slowly nodded in acceptance. Nathan pulled me outside the room and he looked straight into my eyes. I looked right back at him, into his eyes. I saw something that made me pull away.

"You have an ability too? I'm not weird then," I asked in awe, a grin on my face. "I can't believe it."

"You should have seen what your father can do. You better stick with me. There is something you need to see."

"But first, you have to tell me everything that you know, about my father, about these gifts." I squeezed his arm in the hope that it would encourage him. "Please, I need to know."

As soon as we left the building, I felt the same pain in my head again. I felt a sudden awareness and it was incredible. "Dad!" I yelled.

Nathan stood there, as if he didn't have a clue what to do, or say.

"Nathan, he's alive! My Dad, he's alive!" I squealed. "Nathan, he's alive, somewhere." I gripped his jacket. "We have to go look for him!"

 **Thoughts from AspiringWriterGirl = There's the first chapter, hope you enjoyed it and will come back for the next chapter!**

 **Special thank you to my beta, Wikked**


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